Just My Story
by OddPossum
Summary: A story about Remus Lupin told by the bibliophile werewolf himself. No real plot, eventual RemusSirius. Please review!
1. Chapter 1

It was the start of our fifth year.

Sirius, eternally handsome. James, endearingly arrogant. And Peter, well, it was hard to describe him simply and kindly at the same time, though the often used insult of him being James's sidekick was fairly accurate.

Me? Just a measly werewolf, nothing worth describing.

Though I wore a mask of indifference, I was incredibly happy to see my friends again. The summers were too hot, too dull, and too long, in my opinion.

In a week my opinion would change, no doubt, and I would again long for next summer. This was a curse bound to anyone who has been at school, I imagine. Even I, a proud bibliophile, would soon tire of the endless steam of assignments.

As Sirius was charming the Potter family en masse, I decided to go say hello to Peter first. His mother glared at me rudely and I smiled politely in return. A few minutes of small talk had gone by before Peter dragged me off, embarrassed as one was wont to be after such an ordeal as a friend talking to a family member, to see the other two members of our pack.

Pack. I hated the word, and yet it seemed to fit. Though aloud I referred to our group as The Marauders, as was customary, I couldn't do the same in my head.

Sirius greeted us with a bear hug and an award-winning smile, though his eyes seemed sad. My suspicion was confirmed when I noticed the length of his hair; he had the subconscious habit of wearing it longer when he was miserable.

I don't know why I was always surprised when Sirius came back from the summers depressed. He had to live with his unpleasant family, playing the good pureblood boy, and in that old Grimmauld mansion as well. It was rumor they had a fantastic library, but even I wouldn't want to live there.

James, on the other hand, loved the summer. He viewed just about everything an adventure, a challenge, and a month deprived from his mischief-making comrades was no different. His parents didn't mind much, so long as Aurors didn't end up dragging him home, they would joke.

The four of us made our way onto the train as one unit, seeking out our usual compartment and settling down just before the train sped off at top speed.

It was a comfortable ride and we fell back into pattern easily. James told exaggerated tales of his exploits of the summer past, speaking clearly and with the ease only a good storyteller has, embellishing them with overlarge hand movements and sly smirks. Peter complained of how bored he was the whole time, and wished aloud that he had been there. Aside from the occasional sarcastic remark, I stayed fairly quiet.

We all danced skillfully around the topic of Sirius's summer, a talent we had carefully and silently crafted. Peter or James slipped up once or twice each, but Sirius appreciated the fact that they tried and only glared at them for a moment before joining back into the jolly conversation.

Hogwarts came into view after what seemed like only five minutes, and we all hurried to get our robes on.

As was tradition, we started to plot the first prank against Snape in the horseless carriages that took us the rest of the way, but something that had been nagging me at the edge of my mind refused to stay docile any longer.

I coughed awkwardly and was awarded with the undivided attention of the pack, "I thought I ought to tell you, that…well…" I blushed slightly at my inability to find the proper words.

Sirius raised a single eyebrow of his aristocratic face with casual elegance. James stared at me with a confused face, and Peter with a blank one.

I took a deep breath and announced, slightly guilty and slightly proud, "They've made me a prefect."

I did not get the response I expected.


	2. Chapter 2

I thought for a moment that James's eyes would pop out, and then rationality set back in. Peter was looking back and forth between James and myself, unsure of how to react, it seemed. Alarm bells started to sound off in my head, and my eyes darted at the carriage door briefly, though I don't know why.

Sirius grinned mischievously. "Well, I guess our marauding days are over, boys, we have a prefect in our midst now," he said and tilted his head defiantly. He raised a silent dare, a question, one that he already knew the answer to; in short, he was mocking me. The way he said it was somewhat cruel, and I was sure he wanted me to say the wrong thing so he would have an excuse to fight.

"Oh yes," I replied simply, "If I gave detentions for everything you did, you'd all be shining trophies until you're ninety."

Sirius seemed to deem my response the correct one, and added, "I'd be well over a hundred, at least."

James's eyes returned to their individual sockets, and he gave me a shove, smiling proudly, "It was inevitable, I suppose. Well done, Remus!" He ruffled my hair, and I shoved him back, letting out a happy laugh.

"Well, it's not like any of us could have gotten it. Try to imagine me as a prefect, after all," Peter remarked, throwing me a chocolate frog from the pile beside him.

I grinned, "Prefect Peter, now that has a nice ring to it, don't you agree?"

"Oh yes," Sirius said with a faux-solemn face, "Peter, darling, don't be so hard on yourself. You probably would have been prefect, if only you weren't so dim."

James glared at Sirius and promptly slapped him upside the head.

The topic was quickly changed, and though only light conversation drifted out of our carriage the rest of the way, I could feel the pack was on edge, waiting for that one last poke that would cause Sirius to detonate.

It didn't take long.

The sorting and dinner at Hogwarts was pleasant, as per usual, and after a short conversation with McGonagall about my duties as a prefect, I found myself back in the Gryffindor dormitories, feeling exhausted and content.

I was helping Peter stick up a Quidditch poster of the Appleby Arrows, and talking cheerfully with him about the Charms homework we had due from over the summer, when it happened.

"What is your problem, Sirius? You've been looking for a fight all day," James said, not unkindly. I pondered for a moment about what compelled James to say this, but I knew if I ever asked he would just tell me that Sirius was being stupid, so I decided not to.

Sirius sneered at him, slamming the top of his trunk down loudly, "Oh, just shut up." He proceeded to sit cross-legged on his bed and wore a brooding face, muddy boots staining the freshly washed sheets.

"James is right," Peter said, unaware of the impending situation, though I was not as immune to the waves of anger Sirius was sending off, and tried to shush him. My attempts at keeping the peace were futile.

"No," Sirius said loudly, "Let's hear what Peter has to say, after all, it's bound to be helpful." This clearly achieved the affect he was aiming for; all attention was now on him with Peter off sitting disheartened in the background.

James started yelling at Sirius for being cruel to Peter, and I quickly accio'd their wands so they were unable to harm each other too badly in the forthcoming brawl, which now included me, it appeared.

There was no way this was going to end well.


	3. Chapter 3

In the end, I got the worst of it, which was what I was aiming for by trying to hold James and Sirius apart. I had the feeling Madam Pomfrey didn't want to see any of us in there so soon after we arrived at Hogwarts, and I healed much faster than them, so it was only common sense. It was too bad common sense wasn't contagious, as if either of them had any then none of it would have happened in the first place.

By the end of the week, Sirius was back to his old self and James had forgiven and forgotten about the whole affair. Last year, though, Sirius exploded thanks to Snape, and let's just say the end to that was much more bothersome. So things could have been worse.

Life went on. Things were normal, as normal as they could be when one went to a magical school, that is, and the next big point in my life was the first full moon of the school year.

I didn't need to remember the days of the moon anymore. As I child, I made sure to meld them into my memory. The week before the full moon I could be found checking the calendar up ten times a day. Now, though, I almost avoided knowing. As if I thought that if I pretended it didn't exist it would just go away, perhaps. I don't really know.

But I couldn't control the people around me. The pack acted strange, though not on purpose. It was a strange mix of things. Like they were avoiding me by being around me more. I always wanted to say something to them about it, but never did. After all, what was there to say?

I was lead to the shack, pointedly avoiding the pity-filled glanced Madam Pomfrey threw my way. She carried an old, worn blanket in her arms; it belonged to me, given to her by my mother before the first change of my first year. I used to find comfort in it back then, and though I no longer needed it, I saw how much ease that it gave her to have something to do, and allowed the tradition.

Before I knew it, it was the next morning and the only thing that was going through my head was 'ouch' and various curse words. I clasped my eyes down tightly, a massive headache pushing at my skull, and slowly crawled onto the small, broken cot that sat in the next room.

It wasn't the pain that I hated most about the change. It wasn't that I couldn't remember anything except bits and pieces, though that too bothered me a great deal. It was that I would be left alone with my thoughts.

I was often told I thought too much, which only made me think more. Maybe I did think too much, maybe I should stop, maybe they think too little… It was endless. Sometimes I loved to be left alone with my thoughts, and I would often spend hour upon hour thinking about the book I was reading or an assignment for class, without even realizing it.

After the moon, though, this was not the case. I found myself in a rather foul mood, truth be told, and would usually spend the hour or so before Madam Pomfrey came thinking horrible thoughts. I would frequently pick apart the good things about me and make them bad, and question things I would never question normally, such as why people accepted me for what I was.

I was brought back to the Hospital Wing after what felt like an eternity, and then, bliss following hell, the pack would visit. At first Madam Pomfrey denied me the pleasure of seeing them so quickly after, insisting on a morning of bed rest first, but this was soon dismissed for reasons unknown, though the pack assured me with a wink that they had taken care of it, and I was too happy to question it.

My spirits were easily lifted by their cheerful chattering, sneaked-in chocolate, and hair ruffling. James and Peter sat at the foot of the bed, with Sirius on my right, and I had no thoughts, only happiness.


	4. Chapter 4

I was a scrawny first year. Looking back at pictures, that much is obvious. Though at the time I distinctly recall thinking otherwise, after all, I had just gotten into Hogwarts, which was so wonderful and so amazing and wow, look, Hogwarts! And I got in! Wow!

I liked to look back fondly at my younger years at Hogwarts and think about how trouble-free I was. Of course, if I thought about it accurately, I would remember how miserable I was during first year. I had finally gained some friend-like acquaintances, yes, but I had to continually lie to them and keep them an arms distance away.

Of course, my feeble excuses were not enough for the pack, and they soon became suspicious. Peter was the one who came up with the original hypothesis that I was a werewolf, which I was very shocked to hear. Apparently, Sirius and James were leaning towards the theory that I was some sort of secret spy from the ministry, but they were both man enough to admit that Peter's guess made more sense when he brought it to their attention.

The rest is history.

It wasn't, actually, but I was being pulled away from my thoughts at the current moment and that seemed like a nice way to end it. Though I thought nothing of it at the time, while I was reminiscing, the other members of the pack were whispering fervently, but they now stopped, and an eerie silence filled the room.

I glanced over at them, the three of them huddled on Peter's bed, and had a sudden feeling of certain doom. "Um," I said, and they looked at me with wide eyes. Sirius and James were smirking fiendishly. "Um," I repeated, "New prank planned for the Slytherins?"

"Not for the Slytherins," Peter replied, fidgeting nervously.

I raised an eyebrow, "For…Snape?" Peter shook his head. "Me?"

Sirius laughed and hopped over to my bed, "Aw, you look so awkward when you look awkward." James snickered, suddenly at my side; I was surrounded. I stuck the book I was previously pretending to read under my blanket, for safekeeping.

"You're going to panic," James told to me, and then he turned to Sirius and said, "He's going to panic."

Peter started to bite his nails, "Maybe this was a bad idea."

"I'm already panicking," I informed James. This statement caused Sirius to sit on me, so I couldn't escape, I assumed.

I did not expect him to turn into a large, black dog.

For the record, I did not scream like a girl, but I did yell and push the creature off me. It barked indignantly and slobbered on my sheets. I proceeded to have a well-deserved panic attack.

My head was buzzing, and though I could not put together a coherent thought at that moment, if I could it would probably be something like this: I've always let them get away with too much, and especially now that I was a prefect, I know I shouldn't, but I've always been worried that they would decide I wasn't worth it and I would end up a lonely first year again, but this, this was going way too far; this was illegal, and if Sirius was ever found out, I would surely get part of the blame, and oh, what if James and Peter did it too, I don't want to get kicked out of Hogwarts!

The grammar-loving part of my brain wept.

I decided the best thing to do was to go to Dumbledore, and ran out of the dormitory as fast as my shaking legs would allow.


	5. Chapter 5

Obviously, I didn't get far. I didn't even get to the common room before I was pounced on and easily pinned down by the huge dog. It swiftly turned into Sirius, who was frowning at me, lines of confusion on his face, "What's your problem?"

"You are, at the moment!" I said hysterically, trying to push him off to no avail. James and Peter were looking down at me now, and I felt cornered.

"We did it for you," Sirius told me miserably, "Why aren't you happy? Now you won't be alone for the moons!" He didn't understand, why didn't he understand, my brain screamed. Sure, it was a nice idea, but there was no way it would work. I briefly wondered how many laws they broke by doing this.

Sirius seemed to take my thinking for calming down, because he let me up. I wanted to run, but knew it would be ineffective. Instead, I said carefully, "You all managed it?" It was an impressive feat, after all.

"Peter just got it," James told me excitedly, "Sirius got it first, then me, then Peter. Want to see? It's so awesome!"

We made our way back to the dormitories hurriedly. They all showed me their forms. Sirius unnecessarily changed into the dog, James into the stag, and lastly, Peter to the rat. "I wish I got a better animal," Peter said, but his voice was proud, "I think I'd make a good bird. Not a turkey, though. Maybe something… exotic."

Sirius laughed jovially, "Oh yes, you just scream 'exotic'. Though a penguin might have suited you, you walk the same way, don't you think?" James and Peter giggled, in the manliest way possible of course, at this.

"I'm surprised you're not a peacock," I told Sirius, pretending to be very solemn, "Extremely vain creatures, peacocks." He gasped, looking very offended, but after a few moments he started to laugh, unable to keep a straight face.

Maybe, I supposed, this wasn't such a bad idea. And after all, they had broken hundreds of rules before, which are basically laws, so there's not a big difference. I was also curious about what the moons would be like to be able to have my friends at my side, but at this thought I paled. I didn't want them to see me as that beast! What if I hurt one of them? No, I was wrong, this was a bad idea after all!

"Me and Peter are going to grab some food from the kitchens," James said decidedly, "Any special requests? No, Sirius, we're not going to ask them for penguin, so don't even ask. Well, be back in a flash!"

As they left, Peter's voice trailed back to the room, "I bet they'd try to get some, you know, penguin, if we asked." Sirius grinned, not unlike the Cheshire cat.

"Um," I said, cautiously. I paused momentarily to ponder the ratio of times I say 'um' to other words, but continued talking anyway, "I think I change my mind. This is a bad idea after all. I mean –"

Sirius cut me off, "No, I'm sorry, you can't do that." I raised an eyebrow. "I forbid you from panicking and/or reconsidering." He even gave me his sternest glare.

"Oh, I guess it's okay, so long as I'm forbidden," I couldn't help but laugh, and be very thankful I had such fantastic friends, even though I'm sure they did it more for their own benefit and amusement than out of concern for me, it was still a nice gesture.

Sirius distracted me away from my thoughts with a bear hug. "You look so happy when you look happy," he commented. I felt my face go a bit red, and I pushed him away and laughed. James and Peter returned soon afterwards, arms full of various goodies courtesy of the kitchen elves, and we celebrated their accomplishment well into the night.


	6. Chapter 6

"We ought to have nicknames," James announced one night as he burst through the door of the dormitory. Sirius was helping me with my Potions homework, while Peter sat nearby and got chocolate stains all over his Herbology book.

"Hullo," I said simply. Sirius did a backwards somersault off the back of my bed and landed at James's feet before greeting him. Peter was scampering to hide his chocolate frog wrappers, completely forgoing proper greetings.

James stepped over Sirius, laughed, and took his previously occupied spot on my bed. "We ought to have nicknames," he repeated, "I mean, doesn't that sound like a good idea? I think it does. Oy, Sirius!" Sirius, in revenge for having his spot stolen, seemed to think it was a good idea to use James's hair as an aid for standing up. They started to tussle, and in the end Peter got the spot.

Once who was sitting where was sorted out, James brought the conversation back to the topic at hand, "So. Nicknames." We argued for a few minutes before having a vote, and it ended up being three versus one for nicknames. I thought it was a perfectly ridiculous idea, but I thought that of a lot of things.

It is hard to remember who said what during the ensuing conversations, but the dialogue was as follows.

"I want to be nicknamed first." "Oh dear." "Fluffy? Pooch? Max? You know, my uncle once had a dog and he named it Max. He had to get rid of it though, because it, you know, all over the carpet." "Big Ears? Black Beard?" "I do like the sound of Black Beard." "Padfoot? Because, you know, dog's feet-" "Padfoot. It has a nice ring to it." "I agree. Not bad, Remus." "It sounds kind of girly to me." "Oh, be quiet Peter, it sounds better than Max." "Padfoot it is, then."

"Me next." "Alright." "Ratfoot? No, I'm joking. Rat. Rat. Rat. Mouse? Rat…" "Tiny? Small? Wait, that might be hard to explain if someone heard us calling you that." "No it wouldn't, we could just tell them he had a really tiny-" "Sirius!" "Sorry, sorry." "Rattail?" "Better, but it still sounds a little weird." "Mousetail? Wormtail? It does kind of look like a worm." "Wow, you're right." "Wait, I change my mind. That also sounds like I have a small-" "Sorry, Peter, you're stuck with it now." "Yup. Sorry." 

"I came up with the idea, so I should go next." "Be my guest." "Staggy? Stick Brain?" "Stick Brain. Let's go with that." "Don't tell me you're getting bored already, Sirius." "Sorry, James. You know, attention span of a dog and so on." "I must admit that Stick Brain does suit you." "Don't encourage him, Remus." "Oh, Remus, encourage me harder!" "Now look what you've done!" "Sorry, I take it back." "Prongy?" "…Not bad. But maybe Prongs?" "No objections here." "Good. One left."

"I never agreed to this." "Three versus one, you're out of luck." "Whatever you get, I bet it'll be better than Wormtail." "I suppose." "Wolftooth?" "No." "Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud." "That doesn't even make sense." "Because everything he usually says makes so much sense…" "Wolfy?" "Sounds tacky." "Maybe something to do with the moon?" "Let's keep it simple, then. Moony." "Moony." "Not bad, huh?" "It's not horrible." "That's a good enough answer for me."

And that was that. I always thought it was a bit silly that we came up with them like that, but I liked having a nickname too much to complain. My parents called me Remus, my teachers called me Remus, and everyone else called me Remus. But I never felt like I could be myself around other people as much as I could around the pack, as stupid as that sounds, so it felt proper that I was called something else.


End file.
